When I started a draft for this entry, the opening sentence begun with “it’s been over a month since my exhibition”. Here we are, and it’s been now exactly a year since the event, so I guess it’s about time I made an attempt at finishing this post.
While I have taken part in some collective showings of various works previously, “People” was my first solo exhibition. Whenever I was asked whether I’d ever do a solo show, I always said it was unlikely unless I had the right space and the right people around me and did it for the right reasons (rather than just for the sheer vanity of seeing one’s name on display). As it happened, all of these variables converged last year - The Vacant Space is a really cool gallery in a great area (Finnieston) and my friend Claire Stewart, a photography lecturer at City College of Glasgow, agreed to curate the project. I also managed to get Via-Duct on board for marketing and design, Skylark PR to help with the public relations side of things and secured the backing of Resonance Capital who sponsored the prints (done by the brilliant folk at Deadly Digital). With this stellar team in place I thought “why the hell not?”
I had first meetings with Claire back in April 2019, when we started to narrow down the selection of photographs to be shown. I trust her judgement completely and knew she wouldn’t sugar-coat anything just because we were pals. The challenge was to find a set of images that worked well as a collective, but where each photo would also stand on its own merit. We started with around 160 photographs which I thought were my strongest, and reduced the lot to a nifty fifty. I had that 50 printed, and from these, we boiled down our choices to the final 25 (it’s so much easier to make your picks and cuts when you can see physical images laid out in front of you). There were a few photographs that eventually got replaced as the exhibition was taking shape in the course of the following months, but the core was there.
I’m not going to lie, during the weeks leading up to the opening night I was shitting myself each time I thought about it. There’s comfort and safety in flying under the radar and not putting yourself out there too much. You know, you’re making a decent living doing what you love; work is steady and interesting more often than not; your Instagram following is modest but you learned to live with that. People don’t really have a chance to criticise you too much. Splashing your name in capital letters above a gallery door is very much an invitation to be judged, for people to fold their arms and go “who the fuck does he think he is now?”. I did however want to raise my profile a bit, perhaps attract new kinds of clients. There was also a very selfish and personal reason - I was turning 40 later that year, a milestone I was very much dreading, and I thought that having an exhibition would give me something exciting to look forward to. I know it sounds a tad dramatic perhaps but let me tell you, midlife crisis is REAL. At least I didn’t buy a motorcycle.
Anyway, the opening night ended up being one of the high points in my life, truly. The gallery was packed with friends and people I worked with over the years (we eventually spilled onto the street due to lack of space) and I was reminded that my job is as much about taking pictures as it is about making genuine connections with people. I sometimes think the latter part is actually what I love most about being a photographer. At the end of the night, there wasn’t a single canapé (thank you Fèist) or a drop of Prosecco left. Nobody asked who the fuck did I think I was either, so I considered the whole endeavour a success!
The exhibition ran for just under a week and in retrospect, I think I should’ve had it on for a bit longer. Still, it achieved pretty much what I had hoped it would - I got some exposure, gained a few new clients and it was a brilliant experience all in all. I sold quite a few prints as well which came as a surprise (I was told portraiture didn't sell). It was also really interesting to see people react to my work. When you’re a musician, for example, you get up on stage, you perform and get an immediate reaction to what you’re doing; there’s an exchange of energy that happens in an instant - you know if you’re killing it or not basically. Being a photographer is much more solitary and apart from client’s feedback and some online comments, you don’t really see and feel people interacting with your work. I was at the gallery every day and it was fascinating to watch people go around the exhibition, discuss their different favourites, make up stories behind the photos and see things I never noticed or considered myself.
Would I do it again? Probably. Not in the nearest future anyway. For the time being, I’d like to say a huge thank you to everyone who came and saw “People” and to those who made it possible in the first place. I’m leaving you with some images taken during the preparations for it:
